


Oasis

by VeronicaLoganMars



Category: Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, College AU, F/M, Mentions of Rape, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:54:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24326866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeronicaLoganMars/pseuds/VeronicaLoganMars
Summary: College was supposed to be a brand new chapter in Veronica’s life – when she meets Logan Echolls, her story begins to write itself in a way that she had never imagined.LoVe. College AU.
Relationships: Logan Echolls & Veronica Mars, Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars
Comments: 9
Kudos: 59





	Oasis

**Author's Note:**

> Is it a bad idea to start posting a multi-chapter when I don't know when I'm gonna have time to update it? Maybe. But I'm gonna do it anyway. Enjoy!

“Veronica.”

“ _Veronica_!”

“What?” Veronica huffed, reluctantly tearing her eyes from her computer screen. Noting the slight numbness in her legs, which were stretched out on her bed in front of her, she wiggled her toes in the hopes of her limbs regaining some feeling.

Her best friend, Wallace, shook his head at her, “You said you’d be done in five man, it’s been two hours,” He reminded her, reaching forward to close her laptop, which earned him another huff.

“Well that was before I realised that my first two pages weren’t up to the same standard as the rest of my essay and I had to redo them.” She flicked her laptop screen back up, narrowing her eyes at Wallace in the process. “Now shoo.”

“Come on, V, we all know there’s no way you’re getting any less than the highest marks in the class.”

“That’s not-”

“You’re just avoiding having a conversation about this party because you know we’ll persuade you to come,” Wallace smirked, nodding back over his shoulder to Mac – Veronica’s roommate – who was standing by the door, her arms folded across her chest, looking thoroughly amused by their conversation.

“Am not,” Veronica shot back, “I don’t even know what party you’re talking about. In fact, I’m not even sure I know what a party is,” She quipped, tilting her head with a false expression of confusion plastered across her features.

“You know, one of those gatherings with people, where they talk, have fun, maybe drink a little?” Wallace played along, perching himself on the end of Veronica’s bed.

“People? Fun? You’ve lost me.”

Mac chuckled, “Come on, Veronica,” She started, walking towards her friends, “He’s already convinced me to come, I need my best wing-woman there for support.”

“Wing-woman?” Veronica raised an eyebrow, “What do you need a wing-woman for?” She closed her computer again, suddenly interested as she noted the slight blush creeping across Mac’s cheeks.

“There’s a dude in one of her classes that she’s gettin’ all gooey over,” Wallace shook his head, “You gotta stop her V, we’re losing her to a guy that keeps three pet frogs in his room.”

“Frogs,” Veronica laughed, turning back to face Mac, “Really?”

“They’re cute!” Mac argued back, “Look, I really like this guy, okay. And he listened to me talk about computers for a _really_ long time the other day without looking bored, which is more than I can say for some people,” She huffed, directing her words at Wallace, who simply rolled his eyes in response. “He’s gonna be at this party tonight, and I just figured, you know, maybe I could talk to him a little,” Mac finished, her voice somewhat shy – Veronica couldn’t help but pity her.

“Fine, I’ll come.”

Wallace stood up from her bed, clapping his hands together once in victory.

“But,” Veronica butted in, Wallace’s smile immediately dropping from his face, “Only if we leave at midnight to go and get burgers. Girl’s gotta soak up all that alcohol.”

“You barely even drink,” Mac rolled her eyes.

“Fine, then girl’s gotta eat.”

“At midnight?”

“Yes,” Veronica smiled tightly, “Now let me finish my essay before I change my mind.”

* * *

_How little effort is it acceptable to make for a college party?_

Veronica settled on ‘almost none’ pretty quickly, opting for a pair of blue jeans, and a black camisole with a lace trim around the V-shaped neckline – that was the part of her outfit that she’d labelled as her ‘effort’. She paired it with her favourite black leather boots, and decided her current minimal makeup look would work just fine. Her hair, on the other hand, she was going to have to do something about; it’d been up in a bun all day, and was now a knotted mess of tangled blonde, with what looked like the corner of a tortilla chip stuck to one of the strands that was framing her face. Veronica grimaced as she saw the crumb in her peripheral vision, pulling it out and throwing it into the trash can next to her bed before grabbing her brush.

 _Why do I hate this shit so much?_ She mused to herself as she grabbed her curling iron and sat down on her bed again, propping a small mirror up against the wall so that she could see what she was doing. She dragged the brush through her hair, scrunching her nose up each time a bristle got caught on a tangle. In reality, she knew exactly why she hated going to parties; she could probably list off the reasons to anybody who asked.

 _Number one – drunk college kids were annoying. Especially the guys who leered at her all night until they approached her with some sleezy comment about taking her to bed, and then smirked at her until she threw her drink over them._ She dropped her brush back down onto the bed as she smoothed out the last of the tangles, picking up the curling tongs instead.

 _Number two – she had to make small talk. She hated making small talk._ A strand of her hair fell away into a soft ringlet as she pulled the iron back, and tucked the curl behind her ear, before moving on to the next section.

_Number three – she was raped at a party. Things tended not to be fun anymore when they were associated with rape, when thinking about rooms filled with people and alcohol and drugs and boys trying to push you up against walls and sweet-talk you into bed made your heart pound until you felt physically nauseous._

But Veronica would never tell anybody that, especially not her friends. For one, she didn’t want them to worry about her, whether it was warranted or not. As cliché as it sounded, she wanted to appear unaffected – for all they knew, she didn’t like the parties because she couldn’t be bothered to talk to half of the people there (which, hey, wasn’t _completely_ inaccurate information).

She swallowed thickly, registering for the first time her head of half-curled, half-straight hair in the mirror. _Get it together, Veronica_.

Ten minutes later, with her hair falling in perfect curls and a spritz of perfume applied to her neck, Veronica was heading out of the door on the way to meet Wallace at his dorm, Mac having already left to do the same.

It was just a college party, something that hundreds of students at Hearst attended every night; it couldn’t be that bad, right?

* * *

As it turned out, watching over-confident topless guys doing keg stands and then high-fiving each other got pretty boring, pretty fast. Veronica didn’t usually drink, but when she did, it was to block out the image of Dick Casablancas catching her eye as he finished what he deemed to be a particularly impressive keg stand, before shooting her a wink and making what she could only assume was meant to be a sexually explicit gesture in her direction.

What harm could a fifth vodka soda do?

None, she decided as she poured a generous amount of the spirit into her red plastic cup. She’d brought the vodka along herself in a small flask tucked away in her bag, refusing to trust the abundance of open bottles which sat in front of her on the table. She noted a long-legged brunette rolling her eyes at her as she reached back into her bag and pulled out a bottle of diet coke, resting her cup on the table before she filled the rest of it up with the fizzy liquid.

 _Better safe than sorry_.

If she was going to drink, she sure as hell wasn’t going to let anybody else pour it for her.

Especially not when-

_Shit._

A loud crash from behind her caused her hand to waver, and spill a small puddle of coke on the table next to her cup. She turned to find a tall, dark-haired boy hovering over a decidedly terrified looking freshman, who was hunched against the wall with a trail of blood running down from his nose to his chin, where it ran off in drips that fell onto his white shirt and soaked into the fabric.

“My fucking wallet?” The dark-haired boy seethed, snatching a brown leather wallet from the other boy’s right hand before he flipped it open and peered inside. Seemingly satisfied that everything was still where is should be, he gracefully squatted down until his face was level with that of the other boy. “Don’t fucking come near me again, you hear me?” He warned, shoving a hand against his shoulder as his far less muscular assailant attempted to avert his gaze. “I said, did you _fucking_ hear me?” He repeated, his eyes flaring with anger.

Veronica inhaled deeply at the intensity of his stare, imagining being on the other side of it. The thought filled her with a rush of something that she couldn’t quite place.

As Veronica shook herself out of her reverie and turned back to attempt a second coke-pour – hopefully this time _into_ the cup – she hear the distant sound of muffled footsteps coming towards her, before a smooth voice whispered past her ear, sending an involuntary shiver through her body. “The coke here too flat for you? Not enough carbonation for your highly-trained taste buds?”

Veronica’s head whipped up at the sound the low-toned, if not slightly mocking words coming from beside her, only to find the very boy she’d just watched beat someone to a pulp assessing the selection of drinks on the table in front of them. “Flat, laced with GHB, however you wanna phrase it,” She bit back, her mouth curving up into a tight smile.

The boy nodded once. “Ah.” His eyebrows bobbed up and down so quickly that she barely caught it.

Veronica watched as he grabbed himself a cup and filled half of it with rum, leaving the other half empty before he took a generous gulp, almost finishing it in one. “Don’t you think you’ve already had enough to drink?” She raised her eyebrows, remembering how easy it had been for him to annihilate the guy who had tried to steal his wallet. Surely alcohol had played some part in his willingness to beat another person senseless?

He simply snorted in response, knocking back the rest of his drink before he refilled the cup, this time with what Veronica assumed was punch. “Jerk had it coming,” He mumbled after a short silence.

Veronica rolled her eyes, “You had to _punch_ him?”

“Yes.”

She let out a small laugh at his abruptness, “You couldn’t have just taken your wallet back?”

“No,” He tilted his head to the side as he turned to look at Veronica full-on for the first time, shooting her a cocky tight-lipped grin, “Because then he’d have done it again.”

“Pretty sure you could’ve just given him that don’t-step-within-five-miles-of-anybody-I-know look that you just mastered and he’d have moved to a different college,” She retorted, narrowing her eyes at him playfully as she noticed his light up in response to her comment. _Did he just take that as a compliment?_

“Huh, and to think I didn’t know that eyes could say that much about a guy,” He lilted, his buoyant voice bouncing over the syllables as the words rolled off his tongue, and his shoulders gave an exaggerated shrug.

Veronica let out a short laugh, decidedly more giggly than she would usually allow – _ok, maybe she really had had too much too drink. Was she… flirting with this guy?_ Just then, her eyes drifted to where the boys fingers were gripped tightly around his cup, and for the first time she noted the streaks of blood trickling down to his wrist. “Your knuckles gonna be okay?” She asked sincerely, trying to keep her voice light – she didn’t want to come across as if she was mollycoddling the guy.

“They’re just grazed,” He shrugged, barely taking the time to acknowledge what she was referring to, “Used to it.”

Veronica raised her eyebrows at the obviously significant amount of blood around his wounds, before deciding to let it go. “So, do you get into fights at parties a lot? Hobby of yours?” She teased, taking a sip of her drink as she quirked an eyebrow at him. She swallowed as his lips twitched up into a small smile.

“I guess you could say that,” He shrugged, looking – was that, _proud_?

“I’m already learning about your favourite pass times and I don’t even know your name,” Veronica breathed out, slightly berating herself for the unconsciously flirty tone that her voice continued to possess. Since when was she one of those girls that got turned on by bad boys? Especially ones that she didn’t know, ones that had blood dripping down their knuckles and stupid lopsided grins.

“Logan,” He stated simply, furrowing his brow when Veronica quirked her eyebrow at his response, “What, you waiting for me to serenade you?”

She let out a short laugh at that. The thought of Logan serenading her seemed so beyond ridiculous in that moment that she couldn’t help herself. “You got a surname to go with that Logan?”

“Yeah, but I prefer to keep that for the third date,” He quipped with a quick, dismissive wave of his hand, before knocking back the rest of his drink. She could see his eyes sparkle as he awaited her response. He was definitely enjoying this.

“Date?” She choked out, allowing herself a small chuckle at the absurdity of the idea that, to him, their exchange somehow constituted anything remotely romantic. A flock of girls made their way over to the drinks table, knocking Logan backwards until he stood directly behind Veronica, pressed between her back and another girl.

“Hm, you don’t think this constitutes a date?” He mocked her, “We’re practically grinding.”

Veronica scrunched her nose up, deciding instantly that this definitely _didn’t_ constitute a date. “You’re gross.”

He laughed, short and sudden in her ear as his breath blew over her heated skin. “So I’ve been told.”

“Then do something about it,” She shrugged, turning around to face him with a distinctly unimpressed eye roll.

“Jeez, someone’s a little cranky,” He returned her eye roll, an attempt to imitate her, “You on your period? Boyfriend been away and feeling a little deprived?” He pretended to count off possible reasons for her sudden attitude on his hand.

Yeah, her sensors had been way off.

This guy wasn’t the mysterious, attractive bad boy that was going to sweep her off her feet, he wasn’t going to be the subject of her first secret college affair.

He was an ass.

And that was all the ammunition that she needed to pour the rest of her drink right over the top of his head, watching in delight as strands of his hair became damp, and then wet, sticking limply to his confusion-crinkled forehead.

“I’ve changed my mind – you’re not just gross, you’ve now earned yourself the bonus title of jackass. Congratulations,” She smirked, enjoying his expression of resignation. By his previously over-confident demeanour she guessed he wasn’t used to girls reacting like this to his quips; he probably had a different one in his dorm room every evening, and the phone numbers of at least fifty ready to contact on any given lonely night.

Logan winced as the alcohol ran down from his shoulders and into the deep grazes on his knuckles. “Mmm, vodka,” He quipped, his smile tight as he winced again, sucking at his reddened skin.

“Shit, are you alright?” Veronica’s eyes opened wide – the guy was an ass, sure, but it hadn’t crossed her mind just how painful the mix of cuts and vodka might have been.

“Yeah, it just stings a little, I’m fine,” Logan shrugged, clearly trying to appear unaffected.

Veronica rolled her eyes, “No you’re not,” She huffed, before reaching out to grab his hand, earning an eyebrow raise from him. “And it’s still bleeding,” She commented, “Follow me, I’ve got some stuff that’ll clear it up.”

“Really, I’m fine,” He murmured, making no effort to pull his hand from hers.

“Look, I’m not doing this to be nice, you’re still a jackass,” Veronica informed him, her voice matter-of-fact, “I just don’t want you getting blood on my jeans if I brush past you again.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but didn’t protest as Veronica tugged on his hand, and led him all the way back to her dorm room. The two minute walk was silent, and consisted of Logan shuffling behind her as she walked briskly and with purpose, only allowing him free use of his injured hand once they reached her door. With a quick twist of her key in the lock, Veronica swung the door open, and nodded her head in the direction of her bed.

“Sit down on there, I’ll be back in two minutes,” She ordered, “And don’t touch anything,” She added, pointing a finger at him.

“Yes mother dearest,” Logan promised with a quirk of his lips, his voice laden with sarcasm.

Veronica allowed herself a short unimpressed laugh before making her way to the small en suite bathroom at the side of her dorm room – she and Mac were lucky, and had managed to secure the only one in the block that had its own adjoining bathroom. Reaching into their medicine cabinet, she grabbed some antiseptic cream and bandages, before wetting her flannel with some warm water. She momentarily questioned why she was helping the guy who had just earned a cup of vodka soda over the head from her – she was usually a revenge-is-best-served-cold kind of girl. But, for some reason, Logan was making her want to serve her revenge with a little TLC, and maybe some more of that semi-flirtatious banter they’d been sharing before he’d crossed a line. _Maybe_.

College was making her soft. Actually, she was pretty sure that it was the alcohol that was making her soft.

With a heavy sigh of self-disgust, she gathered her supplies in her arms and pushed her way back into her dorm room, only to find that Logan had broken the one rule she had given him. He was holding the photo that usually sat by her bed, running his finger tip across the top-edge of the faded golden frame, staring intensely at the picture with a dopey smile plastered across his face. _Yeah, he was definitely a little drunk._

He looked up, finally noticing her presence, “Is this one you?” He asked, tilting the frame in her direction and pointing his finger at one of the two girls in the picture, “You look… pink.”

Veronica instantly felt her cheeks flush, for more reasons than one. “I said don’t touch anything,” She seethed, ripping the frame from his hands and sitting it back in its place on her dresser.

The photo had been taken five years previously, and was of Veronica and her best friend Lilly, arms around each other’s shoulders, both beaming into the camera. It had been snapped by Veronica’s mom, on Veronica’s fourteenth birthday.

Before Veronica’s mom had left.

Before Veronica’s best friend, Lilly, had been brutally murdered.

But she wasn’t about to tell Logan that.

“Jeez, way to get defensive,” He rolled his eyes, propping his feet up on Veronica’s bed in one fluid motion, “I was just looking.” His demeanour was far too cocky for a guy who was being subjected to the intensity of Veronica’s pissed-off stare. It usually scared most college boys off in somewhere between five and ten seconds.

“Yeah, well, don’t,” She replied, her tone void of emotion. Logan raised an eyebrow, his smug expression seeming to soften a little at her seriousness. Veronica suddenly felt the need to explain her outburst. “I just… that photo means a lot to me. And I don’t want you getting blood all over it,” She tried with a shrug, a semi-apologetic look in her eyes as she knelt down in front of him, setting the tub of cream, bandages, and flannel out on the floor.

“Fair enough,” He resigned, moving his feet back to the carpet as he reached his hand out for her to tend to.

She started by dabbing at the grazes with her flannel until she had removed most of the blood, Logan watching intently as she methodically snipped off a flap of loose skin with a pair of nail scissors from her dresser. The room was silent – the only noise to be heard was the small clatter of the antiseptic cream’s lid as it fell to the floor. Veronica took a tiny amount of it on the tip of her index finger, before applying it gently to the smallest of Logan’s grazes. He inhaled sharply at the contact, and when Veronica looked up, he was wincing again.

“Sorry,” She scrunched her nose up apologetically.

He swallowed loudly. “It’s fine,” He assured her, giving her a small nod as if to tell her to continue. “Hey listen, I’m sorry for being a jerk out there,” He added, his voice suddenly quiet, “Kinda just, slips out sometimes.”

Veronica didn’t say anything return, simply shooting him a small smile and giving him a nod of acknowledgement before she returned to dabbing the cream onto his wounds. He didn’t wince as much when she applied it to the next, much larger graze, which stretched all the way down from one of his knuckles to the middle of his hand.

“You look like you know how to handle it anyway,” He quipped, his suddenly much brighter voice breaking their silence, “That wasn’t your first time drowning a guy in your drink, was it?”

Veronica didn’t look up at him. “Maybe my twenty-eighth.”

“Ah.”

She could practically hear him smirking above her.

Another minute of silence passed as she finished applying the antiseptic to his hand, and carefully wrapped a bandage around it, ensuring it was secured tightly at his wrist. “Done,” She announced, before gathering her supplies once more and standing up to admire her handy work.

Logan turned his hand over, and raised his eyebrows, “Thanks,” He murmured, finally making eye contact with Veronica. His gaze was surprisingly warm, and she found herself needing to make conversation in order to distract herself from it.

She looked down at him, noting with a tinge of guilt that his clothes were still soaked with her drink. “Your shirt has coke all over it,” She started, “Take it off, I-“

“Jeez, what a line.”

Veronica narrowed her eyes at Logan’s smug expression. He clearly thought he was _hilarious_. “Let me finish, jerk,” She half-scolded, half-laughed, “I was going to say I have a men’s shirt over there from when my friend came over the other day. You can borrow it if you want.”

Logan pressed his lips together, though they still held a hint of a smile. He nodded once, “Thanks.”

Veronica wandered over to the other side of the room, grabbing the grey cotton shirt that Wallace had left there a few days ago after not being able to decide what to wear for a date. Mac and Veronica had both informed him that the t-shirt was far too casual, and he’d eventually gone for a button-up number.

By the time she had turned back towards Logan, he had stripped his shirt off, and was now standing in front of Veronica’s bed, his arms folded awkwardly across his torso. She was momentarily puzzled by his sheepish pose – as far as she could see, he was a fairly well-built guy, and his muscled arms were certainly prominent in her mind as he subconsciously flexed and relaxed them against his chest.

Her eyes drifted from his biceps to a long, pink scar on his shoulder; she walked forward a couple of steps to take a closer look, her mind reeling with ideas about how he could have acquired it. “How’d you do that?” She finally asked, her curiosity getting the better of her as she reached a finger up to point to it.

“Oh, I just-” Logan started.

Before he could continue, Veronica had already spotted a second, and third, and fourth scar stretching around from his shoulder to his back, and was interrupting him. “Oh my God, what-”

“Back off alright,” He shot back, stepping sideways, away from her finger and away from her prying gaze, “I’m not here for a fucking inspection.” His voice was different now, harsh. It scared her. She knew she’d touched a nerve. Despite only having met Logan that night, she could already tell that this voice was different from his cocky voice, different from his soft semi-serious voice. He was hurt.

“I’m sorry Logan,” She tried, taking a step back as she swallowed loudly, “I just-”

“Just hand me the shirt,” He spat out, snatching the material from her before pulling it over his head. It was a little small on him, and Veronica couldn’t help but notice how it stretched tightly over his strong chest. “You already ruined my three-hundred dollar outfit and now you’re making me wear this piece of shit,” He continued, voice full of anger, “I don’t need you passing fucking judgement on-”

Suddenly, Veronica had had enough of his attitude altogether. She was the one trying to help _him_. “Oh quit it will you,” She retorted, raising her voice, “Why am I even doing this for you? You’ve been nothing but a jackass to me all night. Give me the shirt back. And while you’re at it, I’ll take the bandages too,” She finished, grabbing his hand in an attempt to unravel the bandages that she had so carefully applied just minutes before.

“Don’t be so fucking petty,” He seethed, attempting to rip his hand from hers unsuccessfully; she had a surprisingly strong grip on him.

“Get out of my room!” She yelled, pulling his hand back in her direction as her face flushed red with anger.

Logan made a deep noise of disapproval, “Let go of me then.”

“Give me back my fucking bandages,” She shot out through gritted teeth, her fingers edging under the sides of the white material.

“Give me back my FUCKING HAND,” Logan shouted, his voice so loud that it echoed around her room as he tugged her sharply towards him.

Within the space of half a second, she was standing directly in front of him, her chest pressed to his, their joined hands trapped between their warm bodies. Veronica inhaled deeply through her nose, willing herself not to cry as she looked up to meet his gaze. She didn’t know what she was expected to find, but the heated stare that she was met with definitely wasn’t it. His eyes flared with a need, a desperation, and she was pretty sure she knew what they were in search of.

She wondered if her eyes mirrored his.

She was pretty sure that they did.

Her question was answered as she felt herself involuntarily move her face closer to his, watching him do the same, until she could feel his hot breath whisper across her parted lips.

 _Shit_.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you guys think (ya know, if you feel like it). I'll try to update when I can!


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